"Jim-!" she shrieked in surprise.

"-and then I'm going to party over here! And what's this? A cleavage in the body politic?" I put my face between her breasts and made a big wet razzberry sound. She was laughing like crazy now. She pulled her legs up to kick me away, but I pinned her knees under my chest and held her shoulders down with my hands. I was laughing as hard as she was. "And what's this down here-? The crack of doom?" Her eyes met mine.

And in that moment-I knew. And grinned. I could feel my face splitting in joy. I could see the laughter reflected back in her eyes.

I couldn't catch my breath. I was giggling too hard. And so was she.

We giggled and laughed together and in the middle of it, I bent my face down to hers. Her knees parted, her legs opened beneath me and I lowered myself onto her and into her. She wrapped her arms and legs around me and held on tight. We both did. I gave myself to her, and she to me-and we were joyous.

She was right. I was wonderful.

SATELLITE RECON gave us the morning pictures: three primary targets and seven backups.

I voted for the one closest to our original crash site. Both Colonel Tirelli and Dr. Fletcher agreed and that settled that.

We reconfirmed our choice a half hour before liftoff, and then we were on our way. Three huge choppers clattered into the air like malevolent insects and turned north across the bay. I remembered this view from before.

I glanced around the chopper. Dr. Fletcher was conferring with Jerry Larson about the layout of monitor probes and sample traps. The crew in the back were sleeping. It was a good idea. We'd been up since before dawn. I made myself comfortable

-and was awakened by the beeping of the autopilot. The chopper was dropping. "We're there," called Lizard. I straightened up and looked out the window.

We were falling toward a wide grassy pasture. It was overgrown with tall blue-green grass. I could see it waving in the wind. I glanced backward. The follow-choppers were still in formation, coming down with us.

The three ships settled down into the soft ground right in the center. There was at least a kilometer of clear space on every side of us. Good. Nothing would approach us undetected.

"All right," growled Lizard, "everybody stay in your seats until the ground crew declares the area secure."

I peered out the window. A security team, armed with torches, caustic sprays, and bazookas was just fanning out. I envied them. At least they knew what they were doing.

As soon as security declared the area yellow, the science team hit the ground running. Their job was to put out probes and sensors. I saw several small mobile units rolling out through the grass, including two walkers and a spider.

My orders were to stay inside until we went to condition green. I climbed forward and parked myself in the copilot's seat again. Directly ahead, the walkers were beginning the process of clearing a wide circular area. A gathering circle. A friendly sign for the bunnydogs. An invitation.

I thought about a beer. I opened a Coke instead.

The afternoon got suddenly dark. The camouflage dome was being pulled into place over the chopper. Soon it would be inflated and sprayed. The whole process would take less than an hour. The theory was that the choppers would have negative associations for the worms and bunnies. So we'd hide them. If we needed to scramble, the camouflage domes could be blown away in seconds.

Somebody switched the cabin lights on. I glanced back. Colonel Tirelli was just climbing forward. She dropped into the pilot's seat. We were alone in the chopper.

I turned to look out the opposite window. I made sure she saw that my studied nonchalance was deliberate.

She ignored me. She clicked her controls this way and that and looked very busy. I wondered if she had anything to say to me. Either she didn't-or she wasn't ready to say it yet. The silence stretched on.

Maybe I should say something. I turned to her-

-and noticed a tiny American flag pin on her lapel. I nearly cracked up laughing. I had to bite my tongue to keep control. Lizard looked at me curiously. "Are you all right, Lieutenant?"

"I am fine," I grinned. "Just fine!"

THE TWO robots had stamped out and cleared a wide, mathematically precise arena. A perfect circle.

I stripped down to my shorts and sat in the center and ... imagined. I closed my eyes and imagined what it would be like to be surrounded by bunnydogs. And worms.

I tried to imagine sitting naked before a curious worm. I shuddered. And not because the wind was cold.

I tried to imagine the smell of the animal. The look of it. The feel of its fur. I had touched a living worm's fur once. It had tingled.

I tried to imagine what it would feel like to stand naked before a worm. I couldn't imagine myself feeling anything but terrified.

No bunnydogs showed up the first day. Or the second.

We kept close to the chopper domes and worried.

Fletcher and I practiced. We did communication exercises, clearing exercises, confrontation exercises-things that seemed to make no sense at all, and yet... I began to feel as if I were the center of the world here. I began to feel... focused. There was a clarity of purpose developing here.

Every moment was preparation. Every moment was a drill.

Fletcher would ask me, "What are you doing now?"

And I would reply, "I'm eating."

She'd ask, "And why are you eating?"

"Because I'm hungry."

"What's your purpose in eating?"

"Taking care of my body, so I can do the job." It felt like a catechism, but-I could feel the meanings under the words. It was true.

"And what job is that?"

"Creating a relationship with the bunnydogs, a space in which communication can occur."

"Good. Do you have any other purposes?"

"I did want to ... have a relationship with Lizard-but I've let go of that now."

"Good, James. Anything else?"

"No."

I felt myself entering a different state of consciousness. The difference was profound.

I felt-in control.

As if I were creating it.

All of it. The forest. The meadow. The domes. The quiet, distant faces.

Especially the faces-they were all so detached from me. They were my herd. And I was-the leader? Not... quite. I was the ... magician.

The feeling was curious.

I told Fletcher I wanted to walk in the forest. She shook her head no.

I insisted. I said it was necessary-for me to be clear.

She said all right, but only if she could send a security team with me.

I told her I needed to be alone. I needed to feel ownership of the land-especially if I were going to invite a bunnydog family to share it.

I insisted.

She gave in. She let me walk.

I knew the team was following me at a discreet distance. I didn't mind. As long as I wasn't tripping over them.

The forest was a cathedral, green and gold.

Its ceiling was so high it was invisible-a canopy of lofty branches and dark broad leaves. God's light slanted down through the pine and the redwoods, turning the tree trunks ruddy. The beams were so solid you could feel them with your fingers. They struck sparks of golden dust in the air.

High above, cold wind played across the roof, letting the bright blue sky peek through in tiny patches here and there. The breeze rustled the leaves like an organ and dappled the light that fell to the soft brown earth below. My footsteps fell lightly on a carpet of fresh green pine needles.

I breathed deeply-and the air smelled like heaven: pine and honeysuckle and cascades of beautiful growing green things. There was no pink left anywhere.